Rest In Peace
by Sweet Honey-sempai
Summary: Leon has finally found D again, and this time their relationship is no longer professional. But the newfound love can't defeat what's attacking D from the inside. Or can it? DxLeon, ChrisxPonchan.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Petshop of Horrors.

**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Drama

**Characters:** Leon, D, Chris, Ponchan, Tetsu, Leon's relatives, others(?)

**Pairings:** D/Leon, Chris/Ponchan, others(?)

**Spoilers:** Manga volumes 1-10, Shin Petshop of Horrors story 1

**Background Info:** This takes place after the first story in Shin Petshop of Horrors, the sequel to our beloved series. D has set up shop in Berlin.

**Side Note:** 12.5 Euro is 15 American dollars.

* * *

_I know I should go_

_But I follow you like a man possessed_

_There's a traitor here beneath my breast_

_And it hurts me more than you've ever guessed_

- Buffy soundtrack, "Rest In Peace"

* * *

Landing

* * *

"Berlin. And I don't speak a lick of German. Great, just f—in' fantastic. How does D do it? Aren't languages supposed to be hard? Wait, he's not a normal person. Of course he'd know German…"

Leon was quite unaware of the strange looks his mini-rant in English through a half-smoked, half-chewed cigarette was earning him. It had already been two years since he had left Los Angeles to find D. He'd spent a few months in England, where they thankfully spoke (drum roll, please) English, and then about half a year in France, where he had just about put his fist in the wall every time someone spoke what he considered "sissy language" to him, and then in Mexico where some interpreter had had to follow him around. And now he was in Germany, Berlin to be exact, where his keen detective skills had taken him in pursuit of the ever-elusive Count D.

"Excuse me, sir."

"Yes! Someone who speaks English!" Leon whirled around, coming face-to-face with a short, stout man.

"You're scaring away my customers," the man said disapprovingly, glaring. "Will you please remove yourself?"

"Tch. Figures. I find someone who speaks my language and they hate me." Leon turned away, but a suddenly glimpse of black set inside a picture frame brought him around again.

"Sir, please don't touch the glass!" the man yelled, as Leon's hand slapped against the window.

"This is like the one in D's shop," Leon wondered aloud to himself. "That's his f—in' grandpa and those d-mn vamps…Hey, mister! How much for that picture?"

"12.5 Euro," the man said steely.

"Have you seen a guy who looks like him?" Leon asked, pointing at the picture of Count D. "Mismatched eyes, freaky smile, same haircut?"

"Yes, I have," the man said through clenched teeth, as he led Leon into the shop and took the photograph from the display.

"Where is he?"

The man brought the picture behind the counter and rung it up. As he tore the receipt from the small printer he took out a pen and scribbled down an address on the blank back of it. "Here. That for him?"

"Nope, it's for me. But while you're at it…" Leon swung his backpack off his shoulders and set it on the counter. A half-minute's worth of digging produced a surprisingly immaculate piece of paper. "Got a frame for this?"

* * *

"Count, ya got a customer," Tetsu yelled, yawning. The doorbell ringing had disturbed him form his rather pleasant nap on the couch, and he was still too sleepy to threaten the unfortunate intruder with death by dismemberment.

"Honestly, no matter where I go, people can't read," D grumbled, marching up to the door. "The sign says we are closed," he yelled as he pulled open the door, "and I'm afraid it's not ly…Detective."

"Yo."

Tetsu, now fully awake, perked up at the sound of his favorite chew toy's appellation. Ponchan bounded up from her spot on the floor but stopped herself short when she saw Chris had not accompanied him.

"I finally found you, you sneaky son of a b-tch."

"Still course and vulgar as ever."

"That you're way of saying "hi"?" Leon asked plainly. "Let me in, why don't'cha?"

"What? Oh…yes…come in." D stepped back to allow Leon entrance. The rustling of plastic caught his attention, which was running around frantically, trying to find something to focus on. "What's that?"

"This?" Leon raised the bag. "Got a gift for you. You left this behind." Leon's hand dove into the bag and produced one of the two, framed pictures. This one sported a cheap crayon drawing with a little boy's sloppy signature scrawled across it.

"I left this for _you_, Detective."

"And I'm re-gifting it," Leon said firmly, shoving the picture into D's hands.

"I…I see," D said faintly, staring at the picture. "How _is_ young Chris?"

"Made a long-distance call a couple days ago," Leon said, plopping down on D's sofa. "He's going to a normal school now. Making friends. Got an A-plus on a math test. Kid's smarter than I was at his age. Did you tutor him or something?"

"Yes…yes, I did," D said, turning around, the picture clasped to his chest. "Detective, would you like some tea?"

"Long as it doesn't have sugar in it."

"I remember," D said quietly. "Bitter tea for a bitter man."

"Up y--rs," Leon snapped, as D disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

"Hits the spot," Leon said, taking a huge gulp of his tea. "Beats the water in Mexico, I'll tell you that. Too bad you don't have some liquor; the stuff they had in England was d-mn good, but this does nicely. 'Minds me of back home."

"You can cease the pointless chatter, Detective," D said quietly, staring at the teacup cradled in his hands.

""Pointless chatter"? You wound me. 'Specially 'cause you're a master of the craft."

"Why did you come find me, Detective?" D asked straightforwardly. "I am pretty certain that your jurisdiction does not cover international boundaries. You cannot arrest me here. So, why have you taken two years out of your short, mortal life to come find me?"

Leon tipped his head back and drained the rest of his cup in one gulp. He brought his head back down with a snap, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and sat the cup down on the small table separating himself and D.

"'Cause I missed you," Leon said plainly. "Is a lowly human allowed to miss you? Or is a guy supposed to forget being pushed off a magical floating boat by the only person who ever actually gave a sh-t?"

"I'm sure there are many people who also cared," D said, staring down at the red-brown liquid in his cup.

"Oh, so you _did_ care," Leon said, leaning back into the couch and crossing his legs, masculine.

"Did you think otherwise, after I took the time to pull you out of that building when I had every right and reason to leave you there?" D asked.

There was a very long stillness. Silence reigned. None of the animals stirred. D did not blink; neither did Leon. There was no movement, until D slowly lifted his head to look Leon in the eye.

"After I left Los Angeles…things were…not the same. The pets had not changed much, aside from Ponchan, who misses Chris terribly. But I felt…that something familiar…was gone from my life. To simplify, I…I missed you, as well, my dear Detective."

He lifted his delicate, feminine hand to empty the contents of his teacup, and set it back on his saucer. He stood, balancing the cup on the saucer, and moved around the table towards Leon. "If we're both done, I should put them away…" His hand reached down to collect Leon's cup.

All of a sudden Leon's hand descended on D's wrist, effectively stopping any further movement. D twitched his arm in a silent order to let go but Leon did not comply.

"Your eyes are frightening, Leon," D said, staring into Leon's face.

"So're yours, but that doesn't stop me."

Leon jerked D's wrist, pulling the earth spirit closer to him, and planted his mouth on D's. The cup and saucer from D's free hand fell unheeded to the floor, thankfully remaining in one piece, as D's hand snaked around Leon's head and pulled him harder and deeper into the kiss.

"D, what the h-ll you doing?" Leon suddenly yelped, jerking back.

D pursed his lips. "I'm not sure, my Dear Detective. That was rather new to me. I think you humans call it "tonguing" or somesuch…?"

"_Warn_ a guy if you're gonna do that!"

"I'd abstain from lecturing manners if I were you," D chided. "_You_ were the one who initiated that kiss."

"You liked it."

"So I did. That does _not_ mean you had the right to do that."

"D, I left my home. I tracked you all over England, France and f—ing _Mexico_. I've made a fool of myself more times than I want to remember, asking someone who doesn't speak English if they even ever _saw_ you. I had every d-mn right to kiss you, and d-mned if I don't do it again."

Leon pulled D down even more forcefully than before; D overbalanced and fell into Leon's lap. Somehow managing to keep his lips attached to D's, Leon arranged D into a far more comfortable position for both of them. D snapped his wrist out of Leon's grasp and dug his fingers into Leon's hair, catching hold of his scalp with his nails but controlling himself enough to prevent Leon's head from bleeding underneath the sharpness of his claws.

"You are d-mn good kisser, D."

"You're not so shabby yourself, Leon."

"Got a lot of practice."

"Need you remind me, right now, of the, no doubt, thousands of sluts you've ever played, ehm, "tonsil tennis" with?"

"Not _thousands_, D. Hundreds, maybe, dozens, definitely. But not _thousands_."

"Get out of my shop."

"Nothin' doin'. I finally found your skinny a-s and there's no way you're getting rid of me now."

"I wouldn't dream of it," D said dryly, before allowing himself to be caught up in another thorough kiss.


End file.
